


Blood on Cobbles

by armouredescort



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Blood, Death, Future Fic, He gets better, Multi, Trevor Dies, Vampirism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-12-01 00:49:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11475126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armouredescort/pseuds/armouredescort
Summary: Trevor is dying. Adrian is determined to stop it.





	Blood on Cobbles

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously this is set a considerable way into the future of the television series setting where they actually get along fairly well and care deeply about one another.

That's a lot of blood.

Adrian was aware that humans don't usually lose that much blood and live. Beside him, Sypha had a cloth pressed to the awful, gaping wound that sliced through Trevor's lung and spine, begging him not to die. Even if they had a doctor to patch him up, even if Trevor survived the pain and the shock long enough to heal, he would never walk again.

Sypha grabbed Adrian's hand, tugging it to her chest, eyes wide with distress. Her lips moved but Adrian had to take a moment for it to catch up to him.

"Please, do something. The prophecy said we had more to do, more work to be done, and we can't do it without him," she begged. "It's supposed to be all three of us."

That was true.

"Don't you know any healing magic?" asked Adrian.

"Only enough to stabilise him. There's too much damage," she said.

Trevor was coughing up blood, breath ragged as he struggled to take in air. His eyes flicked from Adrian to Sypha and back again. Shaking, he managed to fold his hand over the cloth Sypha had to his chest.

"I can't believe you got blood on my good shirt," he joked. "Typical vampire."

"Hush, you need to preserve your strength," said Sypha.

"For what? I'm dying, Sypha," Trevor said.

It was the truth. He was dying.

Silence fell upon them, interrupted only by the rattle of Trevor's breathing. The punctured lung was agonising, and yet Sypha had known stories of men lasting hours after such an injury. For his own sake, she hoped that Trevor's death was fast, and that he didn't insist on being a stubborn fool.

Trevor rolled his head to look at the creature that had slain him, a hairy beast with spear-like claws. One of the very same claws had caused the injury in the first place, catching Trevor by surprise. Adrian had moved in, teleporting across the battlefield in a flash of red light, but he was too late. Trevor had already slipped down the claws, reaching out with his short sword in defiance and cutting off the monster's head. As it fell, he was released and crumpled to the ground, coming off the claws with a sickening squelch.

"Shifty bastard," said Trevor.

He spat at it.

It made him cough up more blood, moaning in pain.

This was not how his story was supposed to end. They hadn't defeated Dracula yet. They were nowhere near that goal.

"It's not your time yet, Trevor Belmont," said Adrian.

He bit his wrist, puncturing the veins there. Blood started to drip out, and Adrian cupped his other hand underneath it. He needed as much of his own blood as possible if he was going to try what needed to be done.

"I do not know if this will work," he said, eyes fixing on Trevor's.

Their colour had never been quite so sharp in all of the time Adrian had known Trevor. This was the most sober Trevor had ever been. Trevor knew what Adrian was attempting, and nodded, mouth opening slightly.

Sypha had been unusually quiet, distracted by her friend bleeding out on the cobbles of some shitty little village.

"No. You can't," she said.

"You asked for me to do something. This is the only way," said Adrian.

Her lips trembled, but Sypha bowed her head.

"I know. I just wish it could have been different," said Sypha.

Adrian tipped the excess blood from his hand into Trevor's mouth, most of it spilling from the corners of his lips and down his chin.

"You have to swallow it," said Adrian.

Trevor was choking instead, unable to drink whilst lying down. Moving quickly, Adrian pulled Trevor into his lap, ignoring the howl of agony Trevor let out, and pressed his bleeding wrist against Trevor's mouth. Sypha grabbed Adrian's free hand, bringing them into an embrace of sorts, Trevor between Adrian and herself. Adrian could feel Trevor licking at the blood weakly, Adam's apple bouncing erratically as he swallowed. He still had one hand on his wound, but his legs were motionless, paralysed by his injury.

How much did Trevor need to swallow? Would this even work? Adrian was dhamphir, not a full-blooded vampire. He'd never done this before.

Doubts and anxiety plaguing him, Adrian forced the wound to stay open, trying to make Trevor drink more. He was feeling weak himself, although if it was from blood loss or the situation itself, Adrian couldn't tell.

"You're doing so well," said Adrian. "Just a little more."

"Ha, you sound like my mother," said Trevor, mouth bright red with blood.

He leaning heavily on Adrian's chest, hardly able to stay upright if it weren't for Sypha and Adrian.

"If I don't survive this–"

"Don't say that," said Sypha.

Trevor gave her a firm look, which was unfair of him considering Adrian had wanted to say the same thing.

"If I don't survive this, I want you to know that I love you," said Trevor. "Fang-face here included. I love both of you."

Then his eyes closed and Adrian let out a shout of despair. He shoved his wrist against Trevor's mouth, trying to make him drink more.

"Trevor Belmont, I forbid you to die," he snapped. "You infuriating, cocky, hotheaded bastard."

The scorching retort Adrian had come to expect from Trevor didn't arrive. Trevor was still breathing, his heart softly, slowly still beating. Then it stopped.

"No, no, no, no," said Sypha.

She grabbed Trevor's face, pulling his motionless body to her shoulder. Adrian clenched his fists, shaking as he cried tears of blood. He let his wrist heal, and then wrapped his arms over Trevor and Sypha.

"We should take him back to our lodgings. Prepare him for burial," said Sypha eventually.

For once Sypha didn't argue when Adrian picked Trevor up, carrying him in his arms like one would do to a new wife as they passed the threshold of their home. Even covered in blood, limp, smelling of gore and alcohol, Trevor was stunning. His soft brown hair fell from his face as Adrian carried him to their tavern room, Sypha at his side with one hand in Trevor's. He looked at peace. All the lines of pain and worry were gone, as if he were merely slumbering in Adrian's arms.

They laid him on one of the beds, Sypha fetching a bucket of water and a cloth. Any other time, Trevor would be making jokes about Adrian licking off the blood, but the room was quiet as they cleaned his body.

They fell into an exhausted rest by Trevor's bed.

***

Thrashing woke them, Trevor's body convulsing violently on the bed. It almost fell off with the force. Then it went still.

There was a gasp, and Trevor sat up, sucking in lungful after lungful of air. He was staring at his hands, then at his chest. The hole was still in the fabric from the monster's claw, and it seemed so pitifully small for the damage it had done. Underneath, the skin had healed up.

"Shit, that was close," said Trevor, lisping over the words as his new fangs got in the way.

Sypha launched herself at him, hugging him tightly.

"You fool. You terrible fool," she said. "Why did you have to go and die on us?"

"It was not one of my better moments," admitted Trevor.

"It worked," said Adrian, stunned.

"My ancestors will be rolling in their graves, but yes, it worked," said Trevor.

His nose wrinkled.

"Is that smell me?"

"Yes," said Adrian.

"God, that's awful," Trevor said. "Sypha, how can you stand to touch me?"

"With great tolerance," she muttered into his shoulder.

Trevor laughed. The sound had never been so soothing to hear. Despite the stench, Adrian clambered into bed, hugging his two companions tight. Never again. He would never let them get hurt again.


End file.
